


Equilibrium

by Otempura



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Sorting, Dark/Grey Harry, Later Major Character Death, Slytherin, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2665724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otempura/pseuds/Otempura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When harry is pulled from void by the personification of Magic herself, he is given a choice. Should he return to death and allow the Wizarding world to continue it's poisonous path towards destruction or step in and save everyone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Out of the Void

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this! Please enjoy this addition to the time travel trope and be ready for an adventure!  
> Also: someone is gonna die, I'm not revealing who yet, but it'll be a while off!  
> Also 2: There will be romance in this story! I am undecided as to whom Harry should be with. Suggestions will be taken into account while writing this, as I am not adverse to either M/M or M/F at all!
> 
> Remember: Kindness counts, so please don't be a jerk; constructive criticism is always welcome, however!

Harry would like it to be noted that falling through the veil was _not_ his fault; in the least. Rather, it was Sirius’s fault for goading his crazy cow of a cousin into trying to kill him and Bellatrix’s fault for doing it in the first place. All he was doing was trying to save the last real parental figure he had left in the world and honestly? He succeeded, and was quite pleased with himself. Even if that meant he fell through the veil in the department of mysteries and into a pitch black void and had to deal with the consequences.

In his new overabundance of free time harry managed to brood and reflect on his life on a constant basis. He had already thought of four hundred ninety seven reasons why he hated Dumbledore, and eighty eight perfectly valid reasons he could get away with shoving Malfoy’s head in a urinal. Hell, he even thought of a couple of reasons as to why he shouldn’t hate dear ol’ Voldemort. He had a whole fantasy life built up around of what he’d do if he had managed to escape his aunt and uncle as a child without getting caught.

Some of his favorite fantasies were the ones where he’d ended up in another house. He could imagine the looks of surprise on everyone’s faces; they knew where he’d go from the start hadn’t they? What other house could their perfect savior go if not Gryffindor? God forbid if he let that hat put him in Slytherin that first year like it wanted to. Knowing the indecisive and wary nature of the wizarding world, he probably would have been slandered and ridiculed so bad that he might have even stayed with his muggle relatives… not that Dumbledore would have allowed that, though.

Moreover, now that he has literately all the time in the world for reflection, it was Dumbledore that disturbed him the most. He’d had a shitty childhood, full of abuse and neglect, and Dumbledore was directly at fault for that. Dumbledore knew everything that went on in his life, literately everything. Every broken bone he’d had after a particularly strong strike from his overly large uncle…every bruise and split lip endured from being swatted with his aunt’s cooking instruments…  the constant terror of his cousin and gang of friends catching him and finally going too far.

That was the kicker too; with all the monitoring charms that Dumbledore had on him, there was absolutely no way the man didn’t know he went hungry most nights. The health monitoring charms placed on him as an infant would have alerted him to the malnourishment he faced while his uncle and cousin kept getting bigger and bigger. He was just a scant five and a half feet, closer to Hermione’s size than his dorm mates; he would never get the bulk that most of his classmates gained, not when he was systematically starved every summer.

Even his Hogwarts invitation letter had been a clear flashing red light! Surely a student living in, ‘the cupboard under the stairs’ would have alerted someone that something was off. No, Dumbledore knew about his situation and chose to ignore it, all for the greater good.

‘ _Fuck the greater good, don’t I deserve happiness?’_ he scowled, thoughts turning dark as thought back on every time he had gotten the short end of the stick while everyone else got to live in relative peace, _‘I didn’t ask to be their bloody savior. I don’t want it...’_

Now that he wasn’t blinded by the constant bombardment of red hair, friendship and kindly twinkling eyes he could give some perspective to his life and the situation in the wizarding world. Did he honestly think that Voldemort was doing right by everyone trying to force them into submission on fear of death? No… but he did have a valid reason for his resentment.

What _would_ the wizarding world do if they were exposed to muggles? Most of them knew nothing _about_ muggles; not even how to _dress_ as a muggle. In an all-out war between muggles and wizards, he was hard pressed to say that the wizards would win. There simply wasn’t enough and muggles bred like fucking rabbits.

So all in all, while he still didn’t like Voldemort’s methods and thought him an honest to god bastard among men even he could admit that something had to be done about the muggles and the safety of wizard kind. Dumbledore was just too set in his ways to lead the wizarding world into the new millennium; he’d sat so long at the top he didn’t respect any other method than his own. Voldemort’s solution was crazy, but Dumbledore’s was even worse.

Allowing the wizarding world to think themselves safe and keeping them complacent while they were slowly revealed to muggle technology just for the hope of peace was the cruelest fate that could be dealt to them. Harry remembered stories of the horrors the muggles had put themselves through when faced with fear and war… there was little hope of the wizarding world surviving an atomic bomb or any other mass scale destruction they could be subjected to.

Just the thought of a wizarding child coughing through a mouth dripping with blood… face peeling and bubbled from multiple burns, eye holes melted over and crying for a mother that would never be able to hear him again, face froze in a scream that never managed to make it out had harry fighting for breath in a suddenly tight chest. No… Wizards wouldn’t be able to stop a full scale bombing and they’d never be able to figure out howto if Dumbledore kept them in the dark of the dangers of discovery… Muggles didn’t even need to personally deliver this death; they could set the coordinates and do it from safety. It’s not like they’d be able to see the devastation they wrought with the spells repelling them, but that didn’t make the deaths that would come any less real and wouldn’t stop them from locating magical homes once they knew of it. They just had to bomb all the places they were repelled to.

Not that any of Harry’s increasingly dark speculations could have any impact on his life now. All he knew was the darkness of the void and the hopelessness of being stuck floating through the vastness for eternity. No hunger, no thirst and no sound, just himself in his own mind. Harry couldn’t even tell how long he had already been here. It could have been minutes or it could have been years.

He could feel another full scale panic attack building in him. His chest tightened and the pain in his chest grew greater with every passing second. He flailed, his body passing through nothing with no reprieve for the madness growing in his mind and the complete deprivation of all things a human needs to retain their basic humanity.

‘ _God, Merlin, ANYBODY, please let this end,’_ he thought, as he grit his teeth and tried to get his breathing under control, ‘ _this is more than I can take, haven’t I suffered enough?!’_

That was when it came to him, from the void a bright light and a cool breeze far off in the darkness around him. A fragrant healing wind caressed his face and invaded his body, calming his struggling breaths and filling his lungs with air that didn’t have the staleness of forever infused in its life sustaining being. A jerk from his midsection pulled him towards the light and then he was moving.

A voice, a dainty little thing breezed through his mind and tickled his ear, “Just so, Mr. Potter!”

His jaw dropped, head whipping around to find the source of the words in the blackness. Had he finally gone mad? He was speeding his way even quicker through the darkness towards the light, stars forming around him growing denser the closer he got to the incredible brightness. Had he finally gone mad, or was his salvation pulling him into its waiting embrace?

‘ _Maybe it’s death and I’m on my way to hell,’_ he thought disoriented, ‘ _it would be just like it to give me hope before dragging me down.’_

“Don’t be so dramatic, little wizard!”

His head snapped forward again at the excited breathy voice, eyes growing wider as he was fully engulfed by the light. After being blinded and shocked by the whiteness of everything he blinked and witnessed colour bleeding back into his world. More colours than he ever remembered existing, the bright oranges and blues washing over and around him to reveal a breathtaking sunset, vibrant green cascading over gently rolling hills and any number of yellows, reds and browns painting themselves into trees, flowers and wildlife.

He was lowered softly on the grass and his legs turned to jelly as he took in his surroundings, ‘ _How…Why? I’m alive?’_

He swallowed, and tried to orient himself after so long the dark. He patted the lush grass beneath his hands, pulling a fistful of to his face to take in the smell of clean earth before a hysterical laugh bubbled out of him.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He rolled onto his stomach and rubbed his face into the grass, relishing the cool feel of it against his face, his joy bursting out of him, he whispered urgently, “I’m _alive._ I’m…ALIVE!”

“Oh, Mr. Potter, you’re much more than alive. You’re reborn.”

He gasped, hand instinctively reaching for a wand that he knew didn’t make it through the veil as he pulled himself from the ground faced the one who delivered him from his solitude. Shock coloured his features as he took in and tried to understand what he was seeing.

A little girl, eyes impossibly large and a glowing green stood staring serenely at him, mouth curved into a small smile. Large fiery curls cascaded down her back, held back by a circlet of gold and a white dress draping her small frame.

Harry gasped, tears forced into his eyes as he fell to his before her. The power coming off her in dizzying waves and her immeasurable beauty halting anything he would have thought to say. He drank in the sight of her as she glided across the clearing to him, his throat dry as he tried to comprehend who- no, what- he was seeing.

She finally reached him and held out her hand for him to take, and unthinking he did so, holding back more tears at the loveliness of her bell like giggle. He raised his head to view her face as she spoke to him, “Mr. Potter, you have fallen through the veil into deaths domain, yet you remain alive. You sacrificed yourself in an act of selflessness to save another. Someone you loved unconditionally yet knew so very little about.”

He didn’t reply, he didn’t know how; he just allowed her voice to wash over him. She smiled beatifically at him, “I… I am pleased to know that there is such a pure love left in you after so much hatred you have borne witness.”

She knelt before him, and took his head into her small hands, face contorted into an unpleasant expression of such pure sadness that Harry the wrongness with every fiber of his being.  This is not a being that should ever bear the weight of such a feeling, and he opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ if only to remove such an expression from her face but was stilled by a finger pressed to his lips, “No Mr. Potter. You have been wronged and my children have grievously erred, using the gifts I have bestowed upon them to tear the very world I gave them apart. To turn children into such…hateful creatures; I can feel its weight even upon you child.

“I’ve brought you from death’s halls, back into life, and I beg that you help me right this. I can send you back into death and allow you this time to have your eternal peace, or you can help me. The choice, child, is up to you.”

Harry stared at her frozen. This being that had the power to pry people away from death and pull them back into the world of the living, even after falling through the void needed his help? Even still, did he want to help? His whole life he had been expected to be a savior and now even ethereal beings expected it of him? Eternal peace sounded so good and he closed his eyes, considering.

In the end though, there was nothing to consider; if he could prevent that future he had envisioned while falling through the void of the veil… He could wait for his peace. He nodded to this creature who then smiled at him, a joyous glow illuminating the now darkness of the peaceful clearing around them, “Thank you… Harry. You shall not be alone in this, I ask that you keep an open mind and to choose your allies carefully.”

She stood abruptly and backed away from him, her lack of support causing him to collapse forward and he gasped after her, “Where am I supposed to start, what do I do? Where am I?! Please don’t leave yet, who are you?”

She moved even faster from him, passing into the tree line and a whisper ghosted from a distance, “ _Magic, Harry. I am magic; thank you for helping me restore the EQUILIBRIUM!”_

Harry’s vision burst into a glittering gold as he lost consciousness, his last thoughts scattered, scared and confused. Where was he supposed to go from here?

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please pardon any obvious mistakes. It is rather late at one in the morning and I have to be up for work in six hours. Thank you all for the few Kudos I received as well as the subs and bookmarks. I hope you like this chapter and will take my promise that if there are mistakes I will endeavor to correct them come morning if not after work. 
> 
> Please enjoy~

He woke slowly, the sun prickling him through his eyelids and a strange poking and giggling at his side. He groaned and stretched, feeling strange in his body as he sat up and opened his eyes. The sight that met him confused, double so as it appeared to be a run down infirmary and he distinctly remembered passing out in a field.

There was a little girl peering over his bed, grinning a gap tooth smile at him wielding what looked like a gnarled old stick. He patted his side, still feeling the phantom twinges from her rather sharp jabs, “Where am-“

He paused. That didn't sound like him; that sounded like a child. His breath quickened and he quickly took stock of his own body. He held his hands out, examined each digit leading to his tiny palms followed by scrawny wrists. His whole body shook; this was unexpected.

“Where… am I?” Merlin, even his voice sounded wrong; he couldn’t ever remember his voice sounding so… small. The octave was way too high and he felt more vulnerable than he ever did at the Dursley’s. Abuse aside, at least he knew he had a place to lay his head.

“You a nutter?” The little girl was staring at him like he had six heads, edging away, “Madam and a copper brought you in, said you’d been mumblin’ some right terrible things and even hissing!”

He scowled, “I’m certainly not crazy and if I were you’d have already been on my bad side. Who goes around poking someone they think is crazy?”

She jumped as if struck, large eyes filling with tears before running off wailing that the ‘new kid’ threatened to kill her. Harry rolled his eyes and took a bracing breath before rolling off the lumpy bunk, stumbling around and scanning his surroundings.

The room he was in wasn’t very large at all, but well light. There were no curtains hanging from the window, the light shining directly onto the tiny cot seated underneath it. The floors were hardwood but old and splintered a bit around the edges, the walls a stark white and off to the side there was a cabinet and sink. Bandages were placed off to the side and an old thermometer and stethoscope visible from the cabinet’s open door.

Harry stumbled a little as he made his way across the room, cursing his poor balance in this little body, ‘ _What did the Lady do to him? To what purpose does being this small serve?’_

He felt a shiver up his back as he thought that and a soft whisper in his head asking him for trust. He pursed his lips and nodded, sighing, before moving once again towards the door. He would have gone out of it too, had a woman not rushed to prevent him from leaving. He stared up at her, choosing to keep his silence for a moment as she rushed him back to the cot, glaring at him waspishly.

“I leave you alone for _one_ moment and what do I get? Verbal violence against dear little Amy and an escape attempt! Well let me tell you little lord that what you’ll get here is much better than what you’ll get trying to live on the streets!” She narrowed her eyes at him as he climbed back onto the cot and regarded her stonily. He did not like this woman; she reminded him far too much of aunt Petunia.

She kept on talking, oblivious to his displeasure, “We do not tolerate violence here and I will not tolerate insolence and fear mongering. I have to look out for all the children, do you understand? I did a very big favor for Officer Morgan when I accepted you as a tenant at this orphanage and I expect you to respect that. There are many more starving orphans on the streets of London and you’re one of the lucky ones to get a roof over his head and a meal in his belly.”

Orphanage?  He was in a bloody orphanage? His draw dropped as he took in the older woman’s words and her face softened for a moment, as she incorrectly assumed the meaning for his shock, “Child, we’ll keep you. Just mind your manners and I’ll get you settled in today. You won’t be going to a jail cell or to fight in another war today; silly child, you’re much too young for any of that by far. You look no older than six years old; can you tell me your name and exact age?”

Dumbly, he nodded and mumbled, “Harry Potter,” he caught sight of a small scar on his hand that he got accidentally cutting his hand when he was pruning Aunt Petunias rose bushes when he was seven and assumed his age, “I’m seven ma’am.”

She regarded him sternly, “Is that the truth? We do not tolerate liars at Wools, young Mister Potter.”

He sat still as the woman addressed herself as Mrs. Cole and described the day to day life and expectations of him at Wools orphanage. He couldn't care less; he was more worried about why he was sitting at an orphanage in his seven year old body, ‘ _Dear Lady, please tell me, why?’_

He shuddered as he felt a refreshing air fill his lungs and a calming coolness settle in his chest. A certainty filled him and he had a sense that everything would be okay, a ringing giggle echoing in his ears.

“Mister Potter, please answer the question!” He snapped back to attention and found Mrs. Cole staring down at him crossly.

“M’sorry ma’am, will you please repeat that question? I fear that I am a bit overwhelmed at the moment,” He looked down and tried to look abashed.

She tutted at him, but did repeat her question, “How did you come to live on the streets, Mister Potter?”

He thought of it and wondered how to answer this one. In his shock he had given her his real name and who knew what repercussions that would have. Would Dumbledore come find him now? How was he going to explain looking like a seven year old and ending up on the streets of London? A million different problems came to mind, making him dizzy with it.

Mrs. Cole must have sensed his confusion and panic because she shook her head and asked, “Bastard child are you? Mother a tart? Succumbed to sickness? Don’t worry; you’ll be in like company here.”

She turned away before she could see Harry’s furious expression; regardless of the usefulness of her assumption, he would never be indifferent to a slur against his mother. Mrs. Cole instructed him to follow her out the door and down a dark hallway. He followed her sullenly up two flights of stairs, heading past several other children looking on curiously and a group of girls who glared at him, hiding the girl from earlier behind them.

“You’ll be rooming with Tom; we've an abundance of orphans since the war and he’s the only one with a free bed, due to his… abnormalities.” She looked back at him warily at that, but Harry just shrugged, more concerned with other things.

There that word was again. Could the wizarding war already have bled over into the muggle world? He swallowed nervously; the wizarding world wouldn't be able to survive that kind of exposure. He had no clue how to stop pit either, if it had already started!

They came to a stop outside of a closed door, the only one closed that he had come across yet. Mrs. Cole cleared her throat and knocked on the door, “Tom, I have you a new roommate. We are coming in now.”

Mrs. Cole opened the door and there sat a pale young boy who appeared to be around Harry’s current age with his hair combed to the side and sat primly. He had a book perched on his lap and had it opened a little over halfway, his face set in an annoyed expression at having been interrupted.

Mrs. Cole ushered Harry in and introduced him to Tom, and then then turned o harry and said, “Harry, meet your new roommate, Tom Riddle.”

Bloody. Fucking. Hell! Harry’s eyes just about bugged out at the name and he choked on his own saliva, backing up a bit. Riddle scowled at him and then at Mrs. Cole who also looked displeased, “Whatever little Amy may have mentioned to you about Tom, you should not take heed of. He is a child, no matter the other children say and is no more monster than you or I. Children tell tales, and I’ll expect you not to contribute to them.”

Harry nodded dumbly, backing up still and sitting on the bed that Mrs. Cole indicated was his. She then nodded to him and Tom, leaving Harry instructions to pick up his supplies later and Tom instructions to make friends with his new roommate and to _please_ be civil this time before exiting the room and closing the door with a snap behind her.

Harry stared after Mrs. Cole numbly, sending a hysteric thought to the Lady, ’ _Are you completely barmy?’_

He got a feeling of an affronted huff back as he cautiously turned his head to glance at the boy who would grow up to murder and destroy so much that he loved. He looked tiny and angry at the world sitting in this black, bleak room. He had his chin thrown up defiantly as he regarded Harry with every ounce of vitriol he possessed. Harry glared right back and opened his mouth to say something particularly menacing, as he thought of ways to commit murder without getting caught when he was stopped by a piercing pain in his chest and a howl in his head.

‘ _Do not touch him! I tasked you with keeping an open mind and I’ll have you do so!’_ The Lady screeched at him. He could feel his limbs tightening and his heartbeat raising. His body felt hotter and hotter the more upset The Lady became. A green sheen engulfed his vision and he felt that he was about to implode before everything eased up and he could breathe again.

He gasped deep breaths, doubling over in pain, ‘ _I’m sorry! I’m sorry! He murdered my parents! He risked exposing us!’_

‘ _Harry Potter, I remember child I gave my gift to and this one has not yet shed his humanity! Did you not say you’d keep an open mind? Did I not promise you would not be alone in your tasks?’_

_‘You said to choose my allies carefully! Why should I choose him, knowing what he could become!’_ Harry grit his teeth and clenched his fists, feeling his body head up once more, ‘ _Why would I want his help?’_

_‘Dear child, take care that you learn more about him. There are more machinations in play involving this child than you know. I ask that you help him, fore’ the end started with him. I’ll have that fixed. Help him. Please.’_

The boiling in Harry’s blood cooled once more and he clenched his eyes shut as he felt the relief flow through him. He was still rather pissed and felt cornered but he would do this for Her, ‘ _Maybe… I can even help him not become a homicidal nutter… Who knows, he might even be pleasant.’_

Harry glanced up at Tom once more, prepared to choke down more hate and bile at seeing the younger face of a man who had caused so much harm but couldn't at what he faced. Tom Riddle looked shocked and overjoyed, a childlike glee filling him and a light shone in his eyes. He looked like he was barely containing himself when Harry mumbled, “err… Tom?”

Tom lunged forward, cracking his knees on the hardwood in his haste to make eye contact with harry as he rushed to get a word in, “You’re like me! Your eyes, they were glowing like a candle, your skin was _steaming_! Are you special too? Are you going to take me away from here?”

Harry stared at tom as his face got more excited by the minute, the enthusiasm of a real seven year old throwing him off kilter. There was so much hope in his eyes, so much longing to belong and to be whisked away that Harry felt nostalgic, if only for a moment.

How many times had he wished he could get away from his dirty muggle relatives? Upon closer inspection, Harry noticed a distinct bruising upon Toms collar bone and a slightly split lip on its way to healing. He knew these types of wounds, suffering them many a time at the hands of his fat cousin and his gang of bullies. Now that he thought of it… why was a young Voldemort growing up in an orphanage? Wasn't he the ‘purist’ of the pure? Isn't he Slytherin’s Heir?

There was more going on here, and Harry felt ashamed for not thinking beyond his blind fury; he was put here to return equilibrium to the world and how was going to do that if he acted upon the first prejudices that came to mind? How would he be any different than Voldemort if he murdered a child just because of the challenges he _could_ pose later on in life?

He considered how he was going to respond before acknowledging Riddle’s question, “Sometimes... If you’re in a position to help, and you give yourself over to her completely, The Lady Magic will speak to you. She does not do this with everyone, however…”

Riddle stared at him like he was insane, “Magic? Is this a test?” He scowled and looked about the room, “If I start to believe that I have magic is Mrs. Cole going to jump out with a doctor, ready to get rid of me?”

He snarled in Harry’s face and was about to continue but Harry focused on his small magical reserves and pulled upon it to cast a thin silencing charm, “ _Silencio.”_

Tom stilled, lips still moving but no sound coming out. His eyes widened comically, considering who he was, and he sat back on his heels. His brows furrowed together as he regarded Harry, calmed down finally. He motioned imperiously for Harry to continue his story. A small smile graced Harry’s lips, “As I was saying… The eyes were a response to a conversation I had with the Lady. She was rather… displeased.”

Tom cocked his head to the side, as if to say ‘continue’, and Harry did so, “I am not here, however, to take you away. That would be difficult, as I have nowhere to take you to. I am as much stuck here as you are.”

To say Riddle looked disappointed would have been a gross understatement. In fact, he looked as if his hopes and dreams had just been burned down around him and then spit upon. Riddle reared back reflexively, unwilling to be seen looking so vulnerable but harry lunged forward and caught him before he could make it too far. Harry embraced him tightly, continuing, “You will be taken however!”

Riddle’s agitated squirming ceased and Harry hastened to say more before he lost Riddle’s attention once more, “Once you’ve reached the age of ten you will receive a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a professor from the school will come for both of us. They _will_ take us away from here. Once we get to Hogwarts everything will change…”

And oh the changes there will be. Tom Riddle was a talented child, a prodigy even. He was enigmatic and that was how he got so many followers… His methods of controlling the ‘Muggle Problem’ were wrong in the future, but with Harry’s insight into what could happen what if he could change that? Could harry make an ally out of Voldemort? Could Harry stop Voldemort from ever being and keep Tom Riddle sane enough to do the wizarding world some good?

The possibilities from here were literately endless and Harry grinned to himself, thinking of all the different ways he could shape the wizarding world. But first…

He quickly cancelled the spell he placed on Riddle and sat up. Riddle pulled himself to his feel looking a little more than frazzled and regarded Harry coolly, “…Tell me more."


End file.
